About bootbrush:

Monday, November 11, 2013

I am naked, harnessed, cuffed. Blindfold, I am led, shuffling, across the floor. In the darkness of the hood, I have no idea to where.

Something bumps against the small of my back, and the hands upon my shoulders tell me to stand still. I hear the rattle of chains, and then feel the harness move as something is snapped to the D-rings at my shoulders and waist. My hands are unpadlocked from behind my back and my arms are guided outwards to the sides - where I feel the clip of a padlock secure them in place. I feel the touch of my captor's boot against the inside of my foot - instinctively I move my legs apart: the cuff around each ankle moves as more clips are connected to them.

My Master moves around me without a word - I feel him rechecking all the straps and bindings of the harness. Satisfied that I am secure, He moves away from me. I stand, shaking, feeling exposed and helpless.

There is a tug on the chains, and the harness straps across my shoulders twitch: pulling away slightly from my body. Another twitch, and I feel the wide belt across my middle tighten. Then the cuffs at my wrists twitch as the chains connecting them take up the slack... Each restraining point feels tawt - pulling me out into a stretched an open position - I am in some form of rack...?

There's another pull - this time its to the restraints that hold my ankles in their padded embrace; I feel my feet pulled behind me - I sway a little, frightened that I'll fall...

Out of the darkness, I hear my Master's voice:

"I think You'll like this boy..."

His boot is suddenly in the small of my back: he gives me a slight push...

I feel myself falling forward - give a muffled, muzzled, shout in panic as I try to raise my hands in front of my to catch my fall - but the chains pull my arms above my head as the straps around my ankles pull my feet from under me. For one horrified moment I am sure that I will hit the floor - but then the harness creaks and the straps dig into me as the take the weight of my moving, falling body; I feel them hold and then support me - and in one mind numbing movement my Master has literally swept me off my feet...

---

I hang - mid-air - helpless.

My body is suspended - spread-eagled - cocooned by the leather and straps and chains... every minute twitch sets my body swinging within the straps; each is so perfectly balanced that every move in one direction creates a corresponding pull in another part of my body. The hood - dark, damp, controlling - seals me off from the reality of the outside world.

I feel my Master's hands upon my hanging, helpless body - feel the warmth of his flesh through the gloves upon his hands. I grunt with equal amounts of pleasure and surprise - grunt to let Him know how I am melding to His hand, his Will.

He strokes the exposed inside of my thighs, runs a gloved finger along the sensitive line of my rib cage, under my arms... he cups and kneads my chest, pulls on my exposed and sensitive nipples; I try to moan around the gag... His hands move on, stroke up the sides of my chest... and then I feel them caress the sides of the hood that enfolds my head and seals me into this blind world of heat and sex and submission...

I feel his hands work around the hood to the breathing tube; for a moment He closes off the supply with one gloved palm - I struggle to draw air, and the hood clamps itself tighter to my sweating face; I feel my body jerk helplessly in its urgency to draw breath against the obstruction. I hear a quiet laugh, and then he lets the tube hang free; with relief I draw a deep breath - and taste the sweet tang of poppers from the ball of cotton-wool He has stuffed into the tube...

With each breath, my head begin to pulse - my aching tits and hanging cock take up the beat, and as the rush comes over me I am overwhelmed by an incredible sensation of weightlessness - more intense than before - almost as if my body were literally flying...

I find myself breathing deeper - more poppers flood into my already swollen brain - I can hear a buzzing in my ears and my lips begin to tingle - another, weaker grunt escapes me and I feel myself sag into the bonds, melt into the harness. I give myself over to the poppers - and to the suspension...

I am dully aware of sensation at my tits and balls - in my dizzy state it is almost as if they float free from the rest of me - hot points of light in the mist that my body has become... a distant part of me is fuzzily aware that clamps have been fastened to my nipples, and a strap around clipped my cock and balls; there's a movement and then I feel a slowly increasing pull as a heavy weight is attached to all three: tits, cock and balls burn as they are pulled away from the rest of me... I am aware I should be gasping in pain, but the poppers and the suspension conspire against me and the only sound I hear escape from my suddenly dry mouth is a deep and animal-like grunt.

I feel another movement at the breathing tube - once again I feel my Master clasp his gloved hand to the air-way - once again I feel my body twitch and strain for breath; when He takes his hand away, there is again the tang of poppers - even stronger now... A burning hunger washes over my body and brain, I feel myself dissolving in the heat, surrendering to the strangeness and the rightness - I feel it dissolving my resistance, filling me with a new hunger, a new need - one that only He can satisfy...

I feel movement around my suspended body - feel the swing of the harness and hear the muffled chink of the chains. I feel the brush of His leathered thighs against the inside of my bare, spread-eagled legs. A finger strokes across my hole, leaving a cool, wet trail of lube... it circles slowly: massaging, teasing, probing. My swollen brain is drawn down along my strained and hanging body by those brushing, probing fingers to just one small hungry spot...

Then one, and then two, of those lubed and probing fingers slip past my hungry ring of muscle; I feel them circle inside - slowly, slowly - they touch something inside me and a stab of pleasure shoots its way up my spine...

... and then I'm swaying in time to those fingers: my body pushing itself back in the rock and sway of the harness and the chains that contain me. Groans and whines and whimpers escape my gagged mouth. I try to push myself back onto those tempting fingers: my arse, my body, my brain are hungry to feel Him inside me - every boundary dissolved in the heat of my aching body and those probing fingers deep in my suddenly hot and hungry arse...

He laughs gently. He knows that now I'm ready to be taken - knows that if it wasn't for the hood and the gag within which He has sealed me I would be begging for him to take me, fill me, Fuck me...

I feel Him sheathed, greased and hard - feel myself yield, push apart, split open - open mouthed and panting, moaning, grunting and growling around the gag. I grab for the chains with desperate hands - try to swing myself back upon Him, to spear myself onto Him; I am suddenly desperate to have him deep inside me - to physically take me and control me. I am shocked at the intensity of my need and my hunger...

But He stays still - buried deep inside me; He fights my struggling attempts - takes a hold of my waist and simply holds me. I feel that rooted solidity and calmness of Him pass into me...

...I breath deep, still myself - and feel the hardness of Him inside me, feel how He fills me: feel the solidity of Him, the heat and the stillness in equal measure. I let myself know that He is in control - and feel myself literally become rooted in Him...

Only then - as if He was waiting for that stillness - only then does He start to move. Slowly, inch by agonisingly hungry inch, He pulls himself almost all the way out - I feel the ridge of his head press outwards against my ring - and then, just as slowly, He pushes back in. Slowly in, slowly out. Deep and slow as breathing, long and deep as the tide. He pushes deeper into me with each stroke: deeper into my body, and deeper into my mind - I ride the rhythm, feel my breathing fall into step - feel myself becoming merely an extension of Him...

Slowly He speeds up - faster, deeper, more hungry - and my body grows hungrier too; I feel my breath becoming ragged, feel my arse begin to burn - and as His strokes become more urgent, I feel the weights at my balls and tits begin to swing: adding their own pull and burn to the pendulum beat of His body into mine - No! - no longer mine - HIS!...

...this strung-out body swings in time to His pumping, feels the weightlessness give way to His thrust and swing - His own grunts begin to match those that escape the gag. His gloved hands grab a tighter hold around the harnessed waist and pull the bound body closer, deeper - thrusting Himself fully in, His balls slapping against the sweating flesh, the leather of His jeans creaking against the leather of the harness that contains and constrains His bound and gasping boy - the black hooded head swinging in time to His thrusts as He pushes Himself deeper and harder into this helpless piece of bound flesh - riding His boy - beating the resistance and the old life out of him - riding him, taming him - taking him - making him his own...

...and inside the hood - speared and taken, gagged and begging - the boy that was once me knows that now it is truly and fully owned...

Thursday, November 07, 2013

You kneel before your Rubber Master; His glossy skin reflects what little light there is in this curiously industrial space He calls His own - those pin-pricks of light glisten and shine - seem to slowly draw you in, draw you down, draw you deeper… You cannot help but gaze, hungrily, at the smooth membrane that stretches tightly across His crotch: defining the meat that it encases, yet denying you the honour of serving it - and Him.

As you stare - hypnotised by the lights - the rubber suddenly seems to flex. At first you think it is His cock, twitching within its rubber prison - but then a pulse ripples outwards across the surface like spreading rings upon a black oily lake… Something moves beneath: sinuous and dark, humping upwards, yet never seeming to pierce the surface.

You feel yourself drawn forwards - leaning towards that rippling blackness as if to see it more clearly; whatever moves beneath seems to sense the heat of your body - its writhing becomes more agitated as it mounds and reaches out towards you. You lean closer, inexorably drawn...

You feel a moment of subtle resistance as your face finally touches that beautiful bulging smoothness - and then, in a violent surge, the rubber lunges outwards: flowing up and forward in a glossy alien wave that spreads over your face in a sticky tidal wave of black hunger.

You try to pull back, but the rubber has a tight hold of you now: you feel it flow outwards from its home around your Master's crotch - it ripples over your face and slides backwards over your skull, sealing you into its vice-like grip. Tendrils prove into your nostrils and into your ears, filling your senses with the rich sound and smell of creaking rubber; smooth pads press down upon your eyes, blinding you - and a thick ring pools around your neck, tightening into a seamless and inescapable collar.

Within the sudden blackness, you feel a sticky prodding at your sealed mouth: a thick tendril of rubber that slowly prises open your lips, squeezes between your teeth, and trickles over your tongue. You taste the beautiful bitter-sweetness of rubber as it slowly fills you mouth. You try to swallow, but the rubber presses down upon your tongue, preventing you. Gagged, filled, controlled - all you can do is sense and experience what the rubber desires.

You feel the gag expand - filling your mouth and pressing backwards into your throat; you are helpless to do anything but relax and let it invade you: sliding down into your gullet and into your stomach.

Your entire head is now encased within the rubber that flows outwards from your Masters crotch. It bonds you to Him - makes you a part of Him. From outside, your head has become a mere extension of His body: a swelling of rubber that encases and surrounds His beautiful rubberised cock. You know that the rubber has created physically what you knew emotionally: that you live for Him - depend on Him - that you eat, breath, die for your Master, for the honour to serve Him and His cock. This sudden rubber transformation makes real what you have known for a long time: Your head, your body, your mind are His.

And with that act of submission, you feel the rubber part over your lips - and the sweet press of Your Masters cock as He finally pushes into your transformed and captive head…

About this blog

I am a gay rubber-pup and pervert - the collared K9 companion and friend to my dog-Handler, RubberGTR.

This blog records my experiences as HIS pup (in public and private) through diary entries and stories - and reflects on the nature of both BDSM and what it means to be a pup and a pervert... I post these thoughts here for the enjoyment of those of like mind - and to help those new to (or outside of) the pup-play scene to understand a little of what it might involve, and what pleasure we get from it.

BE WARNED: Much of the content is understandably ADULT themed and PORNOGRAPHIC in nature - so if you're easily shocked or offended, i suggest you might be more comfortable if you make use of the x box in the top right-hand corner...

Otherwise: read and enjoy - and comment when you feel moved to do so. But watch our for those squirrels!

Erotic short stories

If you enjoy reading the posts here, why not purchase a copy of my short stories?

"Assimilation: tales of transformation and surrender" is an illustrated collection of 19 of my most popular erotic short stories - each featuring themes of fetish, BDSM, transformation and puppy-play. The collection is published by Nazca Plains Corp (the publishers behind the incredibly popular "Woof!" series and Boner books), and has already attracted some impressive reviews.

"Assimilation" is available in most gay book stores, and online via Amazon in both print and Kindle versions (UK readers can get theirs from Amazon.co.uk here).